


Heaven (It's Calling My Name)

by jeagerism



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Blow Jobs, College Student Eren Yeager, Cunnilingus, Eren Yeager Is a Tease, Eren Yeager is a Little Shit, F/M, Minor Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein, Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Older Eren Yeager, Oral Sex, Smut, Soft Eren Yeager, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeagerism/pseuds/jeagerism
Summary: Eren’s an annoying type of pretty. The type of pretty that hurts to ignore.
Relationships: Eren Yeager & Reader, Eren Yeager/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 99





	Heaven (It's Calling My Name)

**Author's Note:**

> this took me five days and a lot of brain power and having to take breaks each time i used certain words. enjoy i think, will probably be cross posted on tumblr

You’re quite sure that you’re five minutes away from leaving Eren Yeager to lie in the mess he’s made for himself.

Sliding your notebook away from you on the library table, you sigh through your nose, pulling your phone from your pocket to check the time. The giant numbers on your screen are a cruel reminder that you’ve been waiting for Eren for going on thirty minutes now, going between sending him warning texts to cursing Erwin out in the shared group chat between him, yourself, and Levi. The passing time only makes you more and more agitated, watching the water droplets drip down the stupid drink you’d brought for him when you’d arrived earlier. 

A part of you curses yourself for deciding to take up tutoring him in the first place. 

Which isn’t to say you had a problem with Eren Yeager, at least not always. You’d see him fairly often before starting these weekly sessions, given the fact the two of you ran in overlapping social circles. You see him at parties, and game nights, and even the soccer games Levi always asks you to show up to. There wasn’t a bit of bad blood between you, other than the fact that you found him wildly obnoxious with most things he did.

He was always too loud, too jumpy, too  _ much. _

Nevermind the fact that he looked terribly attractive most days, or that he was always the one to get everyone home safe if they drank too much, or that he’d bugged Erwin for his soup recipe because Armin had gotten sick one week.

He also never showed up to his lectures, and would always ruthlessly bicker with Jean whenever they were in the same room. You don’t think he’s ever been on time to anything your friends have invited him to.

_ Or to the study sessions he’d gotten Erwin to beg you for,  _ you think. Dropping your head forward against the uncomfortable wood of the table, you release a quiet groan.

_ "How am I supposed to help him when he doesn’t try in the first place?", you’d sighed to Erwin. "He barely shows up for his own classes—which, may I add, he wouldn’t  _ need _ a tutor for if he did—so what makes you think he’s going to come to a tutoring session with me?" _

Every part of you is aching from spending so long cramped into the material of your chair. Brushing your shoes against the bag by your foot, you begin shuffling the papers strewn across the table into a neat pile, gathering your different colored folders together. Papers you’d spent forever printing out for Eren, because he’d complained about getting so many things mixed up. Folders that Eren had teased you for relentlessly during your first few times together, something about  "history being white and not orange".

Just as you’re standing to swing your backpack over your shoulder, hurried footsteps meet your ears, a hand slamming itself down atop the table in front of you.

"I’m here." 

Rolling your shoulders back, you give the boy in front of you an unimpressed look. He doesn’t look the least bit sorry that he’s missed the crucial time you’ve been giving up for him, pale grey eyes trained directly on the hand you’ve got on your bag. Your eyes drag down his figure, 

Your words come out in a flurry, "I have been waiting for you for so long that I finished an entire essay, Eren. I had other things to do today, things that could’ve been done if—"

Eren cuts you off, plopping himself down in the seat adjacent from yours. He gets to work pulling out a notebook from his backpack, scrawled writing labeling it for history. The straps from his bag are tattered, some parts held together by mere threads. You never comment on this, because you know the only reason he has one at all is because Armin had bought it for him as a Christmas present awhile back. His hands, ivory and gaunt, flip the pages over until he’s seemingly satisfied with where it stops, and he glances back up at you, waiting and calm.

"C’mon, Teach," he drawls, nodding his head for you to retake your seat, "don’t got all day. You’ve got  _ other things to do _ , remember."

Something about the way he talks to you makes you want to strangle him, and shut him up, and everything in between. He doesn’t make any other moves than that, lips set in a straight line, seemingly uninterested in whatever you’re going to say next, as if he knows you’re not going to leave.

This is your fifth studying session you’ve had with him, and he’d been late for the first, and the second, and now this one as well. You’re doing this for Erwin, you remind yourself, and also because the sooner you helped him pass, the sooner he’d be out of your hair. 

As frustratingly captivating as Eren was, he also annoyed you to no end, and you know there were plenty of others that would agree with you.

However, the idea of getting up and leaving him here puts an uneasy feeling in your stomach that you don’t like.

So, with a baited breath, you drop back down into your seat, ignoring the corner of Eren’s mouth lifting when you say, "I thought I told you not to call me that, stupid."

Ignoring your comment, the brunette scribbles a circle onto the edge of his paper, humming as he waits for you to push your folder over to him. You do, tapping your finger against the page to guide him. He begins working silently, flipping pages in between bouts of silence while you wait for when he’ll need you.

After a few minutes, he looks up from the folder halfway, head still bowed the tiniest bit. "Thanks," he utters, refocusing after nodding his head to himself. 

Your face feels warm when you look away.

* * *

The following few weeks after that are better.

Despite endless warnings, he still shows up late, but the time gets less and less with every tutoring session you have. He shows up with his things all organized, and he even brings you bottles of water instead of the abnormal amount of Kickstart he always had with him. You almost think it's his way of making up for the tardiness. You almost want to kiss him for it. That realization has you cutting one of your meetings short, letting Eren and his confused look make his way home without the normal amount of work you send him off with.

During another Saturday evening spent pouring over books, nestled into the corner of the couch in your shared apartment with Levi and Erwin, you watch Eren with a curious stare. He’s got a pencil twirling in between his fingers, rambling on about some part of his lecture that he didn’t understand earlier today. His legs are clad in the stupidly soft sweats he’d stolen from Erwin months ago, a price for carting him back home after he’d puked on the younger’s clothes. He’s buried in the old mathletes sweater he’d coveted for ages, and his long hair is tied up in his same overly messy bun, select strands tailing out every which way; curling around the nape of his neck, hanging in front of his eyes.

"Teach?"

"Hm?"

Eren waves his hand in front of you, skinny fingers passing in front of your vision once more before he lets them drop back down to hit his lap. "Zoning out on me again?" The candle burning on the corner of your entertainment stand casts flickering shadows across his face, silhouettes dancing across the bridge of his nose, the height of his cheek. "Terrible instructing method if you ask me." He gives you a boyish grin from his side of the couch. "Don’t know how we’ve made it this far with that."

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest. "I don’t know how anyone else puts up with you." 

"You do, don’t you," he calls, and he’s not smiling anymore, simply observing the squinted eyes you give him. The upward motion of his eyebrows draws his lips into a tiny pout. "What, not up for admitting your crush on me, yet?"

"Shut up," the slight shake in your voice must not be noticeable, and if it is he makes no note of it, chuckling and leaning his head back into the cushions of the couch. 

"Listen this time, yeah? Otherwise someone might think there’s not a thought inside that pretty head." He starts back on his babbling of topics he’d found difficult, tossing in little jabs at his professor, about how stupid Jean had looked when he’d passed him on his way back to your apartment. 

A part of you thinks it's to keep you on your toes. Another thinks it's just an effort to get you to smile.

And you do. Because his teasing words weren’t as far off than he may have thought.

* * *

Eren has a maddening habit of messing with you to distract from the work he’s supposed to do, prying embarrassment from the center of your soul in order to achieve breaks from the endless studying he needs to pass his final.

Said finals are tomorrow, which gave you plenty of reason to show up at his door hours before, arms full of material he’d need to remember if he’d intended to pass. He’d let you in with a heavy sigh, body pressed against the front door as you slid past him, eyes taking in the warm beige of the interior. Something you were sure Armin and Mikasa had managed alone, seeing as Eren’s entire color palette consisted of blacks and the occasional splash of white and blue. 

He leads you past the living room, where Jean is stuffing his phone into his pocket next to Mikasa, who’s slipping on her shoes. She gives you a nod as you slip off your own, and Jean does as well, before his eyes are snatched away by Eren’s hand, extended with his middle finger poised towards the boy, slight smile offered along with his crude gesture. He keeps it faced towards him all the way until the two of you disappear around the corner, concealed by the hallway walls. 

"You didn’t have to do that," you murmur, kissing your teeth with a shove of your shoulder into his. Eren shrugs, uncaring as he twists the doorknob of his room, pushing his door open for you to step into his room. The front door closes as you do, and you look back at him in question.

"They’re going to some bullshit soccer game." He’s gone to every  _ bullshit soccer game _ this season.

Laughing, you plop down on the edge of his bed, laying the armful of study material down onto his bed; you jerk your head towards where his history textbook rests on his bedside table. Seeming to get the memo, he hefts it into his arms, scooting up to the headboard of his bed. He gestures for you to do the same, watching your form as you lean back into the wall, sorting things as you normally did for your meetings. "Well, when you pass, we can go to the next. If it’s not too bullshit for you."

He doesn’t respond, and when you look back up his eyes are already on you. 

"We could?" You nod, humming. "Like, you and me?" 

"Yes, Eren," you reassure, growing increasingly warm at the devoted attention he has on you. "Wouldn’t mind if you wouldn’t. Plus, imagine how many girls in your chemistry class would be jealous that Eren Yeager is going to the football game with someone that isn’t them."

A quiet noise of disbelief falls from his lips, "You play off as shy a lot for someone who makes jokes like that." Another mumble comes from his direction, muffled by the hand he passes over his mouth. 

"What?"

He bumps his knee into yours, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"Ah, yeah right," you protest, slapping his thigh with the orange folder grasped in your hand. "What’d you say?" Again, he shakes his head, moving his head to see in front of you. "Eren." You move in front of his line of sight, lips pouting at him. "Just—"

Reaching out with a frustrated sigh, Eren’s hand cups your jaw, stopping you in your place. His washed out eyes meet yours, unwavering as he keeps you in position. "I said," he voices, not even pausing to blink, "what if I don’t want to go with anyone else?" His thumb brushes the apple of your cheek, soft and slow, his face moving closer to yours bit by bit. "You’re pretty," he whispers.  There’s so little space between the two of you that you’re sharing the same breath; the little wisps of hair gathered at the front of his face tickle your own, and his nose nudges yours when he speaks next.

"Not so forward now, hm?"

And it’s hot. The air, his hand where it rests against the underside of your jaw, the way his eyes bounce back and forth between your eyes before they lower again. It’s suffocating, and you’re sure that any longer here, with him, will only make the next few weeks even more complicated than being in his presence did in the first place. There’s a numerous number of reasons why letting Eren get this close is wrong, nearly fatal. 

Which is why you pull away. There’s a surprised glaze that passes through his eyes before he’s back to his normal, dead stare. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

"I should, uh, go? We can, like, study more later. At the library, or the campus coffee shop, just not..."  _ Not here.  _ Pushing your hair behind your ears with a deep exhale, you gather your jacket and bag into your hands from the corner of his bed. You eye the colored folders sprawled beside him, but they’re too close to him for you to even consider going back for them. You could always ask for him to bring them to you later. In public. Where it wouldn’t just be the two of you, alone.

Eren Yeager is collateral damage. You know this. He’s failing a couple classes, he never showed up for those classes, hell, he’d even ditched your first studying session without a word to you. You’re astoundingly aware of it all.

Your feet tingle where they meet the floor, and you’re about to stand when he calls out to you.

"Where are you going?"

"Home?" You turn your head to face him, eyebrows raised in question. He’s got one of those stupid pens in his hands, twirling it around with a disinterested gaze that almost made him seem bored of you.

"Who said you could go? You’re staying."

"Why?"

Whatever resolve you have to leave him here clings desperately to the forefront of your mind. He leans back, back meeting the wooden headboard of his obnoxiously comfortable bed, eyes barely open, yet you know for a fact he’s watching you anyways. And as he opens his mouth, lips tilted up at the corners like he knows something you don’t, you can feel that resolve slipping through your fingers like water.

_ "To help me out." _

"Eren."

His head tilts to the side, gesturing for you to move forward. "Help with  _ school, _ Teach." His voice sounds teasing, eyebrows raising. "That test is tomorrow, so unless you’re planning on teaching me on the way, you’re staying." Tapping his finger against the textbook now open across his thighs—when the hell had he done that?—he sighs at the squinty eyed look you’re giving him. "I can call Armin if you don’t want to." And then, quieter, he says, "And I won’t try and kiss you again."

I’m not sure if I want that, you think. What comes from your mouth is different, more practical, controlled. "Yeah?" 

"Scouts honor," he swears, shrugging his shoulders, finger still prodded into the pages of his book. The comforter is soft underneath your fingers when you sit back, scooting back up beside him. Once your back meets the headboard, orange folder in hand, you nod your head. After a few seconds of silence between you, other than the sounds of shuffling paper and humming, another quiet murmur comes from his way. "Not unless you want me to."

"Eren!"

"Chill, I’m ki—I’m just kidding!"

* * *

"This is bullshit."

It’s the fourth time Eren’s said that in the last thirty minutes, becoming increasingly more annoyed with the information presented to him with every minute that passes. You can’t blame him though. He’d worked silently beside you for another four hours after your almost kiss, other than the times he’d ask you about something he’d read or check to see if he’d gotten an answer right. And even your hands were cramping up from writing corrections on his fake tests, the words swimming on the paper.

"You're almost done," you comment, pen scratching against the paper with every letter you write, "here—you even got most of the questions right on this." You toss the stapled bunch of papers over to his side of the bed, the two of you having migrated to different spots during your endless working. The papers hit the bed just beside his knee. 

Eren eyes them with quiet disdain, but picks them up anyways, scanning the words for less than a second before he lets it fall back onto the mattress. Despite his attempted disinterest, you catch a glimpse of a small smile when he looks back down at the textbook in his hands. 

"Does that mean we can take a break?" He reaches up, hands clasping above his head to stretch. A soft groan escapes, eyes closing. He looks tired, you notice, strands of unkempt hair invading his face, mouth set in a tiny grimace. "I’m tired of reading about old people and the Mediterranean Society—"

_ "Mesopotamian," _ you correct, but he’s already sliding off of the bed, your words falling on deaf ears. He stretches again once he stands, his shirt rising to expose pale, silky looking skin. Checking the time on your phone, you hum in thought. "Fifteen minutes. Then we go back to working. If we work fast enough, we could be done in...an hour?" 

Nodding his head, Eren brings a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Be back in a second. Want anythin’?" His eyes pass over you while you shake your head, washed out grey feeling like needles on your skin. He passes through his door without another word, pulling it closed gently behind him.

Sighing, you lean your head against the wall, flexing your hands to work out the cramps. You’ve been writing for hours, either correcting Eren’s mistakes, writing out guides for what he needed more work on, or the piles of work you’d needed to work through on your own. You close your eyes, waiting for Eren’s return while still wringing your hands out.

"Falling asleep on me already, Teach?"

Said boy plops down on his bed, resuming his previous position. He’s got two bottles of water in his hand, one of which he holds out to you. He eyeballs the way you rub your hands after accepting it, still attempting to remove the kinks. 

"No, sorry, just ready to get this over with." Grabbing your pen from where it lays between the folder in your lap. "Ready to—what’re you—" Eren pulls the pen from your hand, tossing it to the table beside his bed, where it rattles before rolling and hitting the floor. "Hey," you whine, eyebrows furrowed at him.

He envelopes one of your hands in his, holding it stationary before slowly beginning to knead his fingers into the muscles in your hand. 

"You kept wincing every time you wrote something down earlier," he explains, not bothering to look up to see your reaction. You’re almost thankful for that, widened eyes trained on his face, then where his hands are holding yours. "And seeing as it's kind of my fault you’re doing all this anyway, figured I should do something to help." He continues massaging your hand, switching to the other not soon after. 

Still watching him, you tilt your head to the side in curiosity. "Why do you even take history anyways? You hate it. And you’re...not very good at it. No offense."

His gaze travels back up to yours at your words, seemingly unamused at your jab. "Shut up," he replies. Scooting even closer towards your spot against the wall, he huffs. "I forgot to sign up until the last day sign ups were going on. Accidentally checked off the class and now here I am." He shrugs, and stops massaging your hands. However, he doesn’t let them go, holding them in his hands, resting on your legs. "It’s a Gen Ed course, so I was gonna have to take it eventually anyways."

Eren’s eyes on yours make you realize that you’re just sitting here, too distracted by holding his hand and hearing him speak softly instead of finishing what you need to do now. 

"We should really go back to studying."

He raises an eyebrow. "Do we?"

"You’ve got a final in fifteen hours and we still have so much to go through." You suck in a breath, releasing it slow and steady, shoulders relaxing.

His grasp slides up from his hands to just below your elbow, hold light. "Hey, Teach?"

"Hm?"

"Can I try something else instead?"

Your heart jumps in your chest, and even though you know what he’s going to do, you nod your head anyways. Even though you’d been hesitant about it before, you want him to kiss you anyways. 

_ And I won’t try and kiss you again. Not unless you want me to. _

"Yeah," you whisper, already leaning towards him. 

He pulls you in by his hold on your arm, a little too fast, chest knocking into his with a shallow breath. He kisses you with fervor, his lips fitting against your own. You move forward again, Eren’s head tilting back to accommodate the decrease of space. Rising onto your knees, you slide your way onto his lap. The crinkle of paper meets your ears, and you disconnect your lips as you look towards where the noise came from. Eren groans in annoyance, snatching the few stray papers and folders within his reach up, and tossing them over the side of his bed. He even shoves his history book to the floor, hitting the carpet with a loud thump. 

"There," he grits out, pressing a kiss to the edge of your mouth. "Now stop worrying about the stupid work and—"

"Can I suck you off?" 

The words have him freezing in his pot, lips still working around the middle of his sentence. Splotches of pink begin flooding his face, and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck with a muttered curse. "You can’t just  _ say _ things like that, you know." The steady stream of air from his breathing makes you shiver, hands steady on his shoulders, fingers smoothing over the muscles of his shoulders underneath his shirt. His cheek is warm against your shoulder, and a small part of you revels in the glory of making him flustered. "Not after how much I," Eren breathes, lips skimming over the sensitive skin of your neck.

"How much you...?"

Slowly, Eren removes his face from its hiding spot, pulling back with baby pink cheeks. "How much I’ve wanted you before. How much I want you now." His fingers trace shapes into your sides, and for once you think you see something other than disinterest in his eyes. "Pretty hard not to notice someone like you, Teach."

Surging forwards, you connect your lips with his again, messy and all teeth and tongue. His mouth is warm against yours, nipping at your bottom lip for access, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You pull back, huffing at the way his lips chase yours. Sliding back off of his lap, you push your knees into the soft mattress, sitting pretty and quiet before him.

You’re pretty sure you’re way too far in to be embarrassed now, what with you asking to give him a blowjob a mere two minutes ago. But when he’s looking at you like this, watching you through lidded eyes, you’re still, the prickling feeling of self consciousness hot on the back of your neck.

"Getting all shy on me again?", Eren murmurs, eyes low and dark. The intensity of his gaze makes your stomach clench in anticipation. 

Breathing in to try to calm your trembling hands, your hands reach for the strings of his sweats, pulling them undone with bated breaths. You tug the fabric down enough to reach inside his boxers, pulling the length of his dick free. Hesitant, you wet your lips, eyes locked onto the path of veins that stretch to the underside of his cock.

"Hey", Eren breathes, sliding his hand along the underside of your jaw, soft as he tilts your head to face him. "We stop anytime you say so, yeah?"

You nod, humming despite the part of your brain telling you not to embarrass yourself. You brush your fingers over the pretty head of his length, excitement racing through you at the muffled groan he releases. A quiet hiss escapes Eren, hands twitching at his sides, fisted into the grey sheets. He’s hard when you take him into your hand, barely grasping it with your hand loosely wrapped around the base. 

"You can grip it tighter than that you know," he murmurs, head tilted to the side, cold eyes taking in every movement you make, "you’re not gonna hurt me, pretty thing."

Heat spreads from the back of your neck to your cheeks. "Okay, uh, yeah, I..." You readjust the hold you have on his cock, wide eyes jumping back up to meet his at the groan that rumbles from his throat. "I don’t wanna be  _ bad at it. _ " 

_ "Bad?" _ , Eren exhales, watching as your hand begins stroking up and down the length of his dick, hips stuttering, pushing it even further into the warmth of your hand. Swallowing, his next words are choked out, "I don’t think you could be bad at this if you tried." He settles even further back, watching as your pretty hand works his cock up and down. 

You give a few more experimental pumps of your fist, drinking in every moan and twitch. Beads of pre cum drip down from the tip, following a direct path down until they meet your fist, adding lubricant to the steady stroking of his cock. When you look back at him, eager to commit the moment—the moment you made Eren Yeager helpless—to memory, your heart jumps in your chest at the sight before you.

Eren’s eyes are still on you, just barely able to see from the lazy drooping of his eyes due to the pleasure. God, he’s stupidly fucking pretty. The type of pretty that makes you angry; but also the type of pretty that makes it easy to move forward, taking the head of his cock into your mouth.  _ "Shit, you’re..." _ It takes almost everything in you to continue instead of getting lost at how good he looks like this—head tossed back against his headboard, small whines and breathless praises thrown into the air between you.  _ "Oh, fuck, _ you can...yeah, like...like that. You’re so  _ good. _ " You swirl your tongue around the tip, taking as much of him as you can, jerking what you can’t fit in your mouth with your fist. 

"Hey,  _ shit _ ." The hand cupping your cheek guides you backwards, lips disconnecting from the head of his cock with a soft  _ pop _ . A string of spit connects your lips to the tip, catching the light from his bedside table. "Pretty," Eren whispers, thumb swiping over the mess of spit and pre cum that covers your chin. He drags it across your bottom lip, gathering it and dipping the finger back into your mouth. Lips closing around it, you pause at his unblinking stare, before hesitantly swirling your tongue around his thumb like you’d done to his cock; another deep groan comes from the swell of his throat. "You’re killing me, Teach."

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his firm grasp on your chin keeping you pulled against him. He moves you backwards enough for your elbows to meet the mattress underneath you, back falling against it soon after. From above you, Eren looks ethereal, lips puffy, cheeks and the tips of his ears tinted pink. He abandons his hold on your chin for placing his hand beside your head, caging you in between both arms. "Wouldn’t mind seeing you like this more often."

Dipping back down to you, his nose bumps into yours as he reaches down, palm sliding across the expanse of your thigh, pulling it to rest against his hip. His fingers stroke the skin, soft hum reverberating from him. 

"You’re so soft."

Your head is mush at the feeling of his hands all over you, lips smoothing over every patch of skin they can find. His hand travels from its place on your thigh, fingers teasing the edge of your hip, trailing up and around your navel, and over the fabric covering your chest before he rests it against your throat. His fingers leave a pleasant weight at the base, just barely enough pressure to know they’re there. Eren’s hair falls in a curtain around him as he presses his mouth to your own, wanting and desperate. "Want me to touch you, pretty thing?" 

He gives your throat a final squeeze before abandoning it in favor of tracing his hand over the area where your thighs meet, teasing his fingers over the space between them. "Want me here?" 

"Please," a whimper accompanies the forward grind of your hips against his hand, something that has him chuckling. You’re too desperate to be embarrassed, eyes stinging with tears.  _ "Please."  _

Eren presses another opened mouth kiss to your lips, before trailing down, peppering kisses across your neck. He continues his journey down, pausing in between to mark soft spots of skin, temporary tattoos that resemble his desire, until he’s resting his cheek against your inner thigh. Glancing up, Eren’s lips lift upwards in the tiniest of smiles. The strands of hair framing his face tickle. "Still okay?"

Nodding, your chin brushes your chest when you meet his gaze. "Yeah, just," an exhale, "want  _ more _ ." A few beats pass, eyes darting back and forth between him and the grip he has on your thigh. "Please."

He huffs out a laugh. "Since you asked so nicely." Tapping against the side of your hip, Eren loops his fingers through the band of your shorts. "Up." At his command, you lift your hips from the bed, letting him tug the shorts and underwear down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him. The first touch of his fingers against your core makes you cry out; he tugs your thighs open further, your cunt open to his fingers completely. His fingers dive between your folds, welcomed to the wetness gathered there. Another lewd whimper falls from your pouted lips.

"You’re so  _ noisy," _ he scolds, thumb rubbing gentle circles on your clit, tutting when another stuttering moan comes from your mouth. The hand that’s not making a mess of you is clutching the skin of your thigh, keeping it pressed into his mattress. "Barely even done anythin’, and you’re this loud." His hand cups your dripping cunt, middle finger sliding between your folds with ease. "You sound so pretty though, don’t you?" Eyes fluttering shut, you drag your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself, hips pushing themselves against his touch. "Ah, eyes open, sweetheart." Your thighs twitch ever slightly, hole clenching and sending a fresh wave of arousal to meet Eren’s fingers. 

"Can’t," you whine, voice cracking. His fingers slip even closer to your entrance, making you clench around nothing, desperate for  _ something _ . Your head drops back even further as the brunette sinks two digits into your little hole, hips attempting to arch off the mattress. "E-Eren!" 

"You _ can’t," _ he repeats, working his fingers inside of you with a disapproving hum. "Baby’s gone stupid over my fingers already, hm?" A short cry is given as his answer, whining as his fingers slip out from inside of you, leaving your core empty once more. Another few seconds pass before something hot fans out against your swollen cunt. "Gonna let me make you cum, sweetheart?" 

You nod hurriedly, your hips canting into the air, only for them to be pushed back down. 

"Use your words, sweet thing. Not too fucked out that you can’t tell me what you want, are you?" Wet fingers scale your side, all the way up to your chest, where he cups your breast through the material of your shirt, swiping his thumb over the cup of your bra. "Wanna come, yeah?" 

" _ Y-Yes, _ Eren, please make me come, I—" Fisting the cotton material of his blanket, your head dips even further back into the mattress. 

Chuckling, Eren’s hold on you tightens, and he pulls you closer to him, nose brushing the inside of your thigh. "Don’t worry, pretty baby," he drawls, teeth nipping at the inside of your thighs, "I’ll make you come." Eren’s tongue flattens against your slit, pulling a long, drawn out whine from your throat. He’s got his forearms wrapped securely under your legs, mouth pressed perfectly against your core. His tongue traces circles against your clit, before sucking the bud into his mouth.

He’s cocky enough without you shouting his name like a prayer, but you can feel the rumble of his words as much as you hear them when he says, "Fucked so stupid all you can think of is me, huh?" His tongue dips below to lap at your juices before dragging up to tongue at your clit; you keen, chest heaving. You let go of your grip on the sheets, hand clumsily travelling towards where his is wrapped around your thigh. He flips his hand over, palm up to meet yours, fingers tangling together when you slide your hand into his. His touch is grounding, fingertips tingling where they press against his own. "Don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this; wanna do this every day. You’re so wet, so pretty, aren’t you? Just for me?"

"Yes," you choke out, tightening your hold on his hand, squeezing it harder and harder, "it’s all for you, Eren, o-only for you."

"Good," he calls, fingers joining his ruinous descent of your cunt, swiping through the wet mix of spit and cum, stroking up your slit. Eren tucks two fingers into your entrance, pausing once they’re knuckle deep, seated within the warm, wet walls of your cunt. "Gonna make you come, yeah?" He starts on your core with a newfound pace, fucking you with his fingers eagerly. His tongue dances over your clit, adding fuel to the loud squelching made every time his fingers sink back into your cunt. 

Your juices coat his fingers entirely, making it easy to slip them in and out of your tight hole. Your core feels full, stuffed with his fingers, entrance stretched by the scissoring motion of the slick digits. Lewd moans and whimpers fall left and right from your pretty mouth, mixed in with shouts of his name, begs for more. A wave of pleasure crashes through you, stomach clenching tight, your cunt clamping down on his fingers. "E-Ere—" The boy between your legs takes one last lick against your messy slit before you fall apart, body shaking underneath his hold. Legs attempting to close around his head, Eren pushes them back down, greedily lapping at the cum gushing out of your sweet cunt.

By the time your breathing has returned to normal, he’s pressing his lips against the inside of your thigh. Your hand is clutching his in a death grip still, to which you blink bearily at him, lower half still tingling from the aftereffects of your orgasm. Eren lifts himself from between your legs, trailing open mouthed kisses up the base of your stomach, pushing the material of your shirt up to make room as he goes. He stops just below your breasts, biting a final kiss there. "Still good?" 

Nodding shallowly, your hands tangle into his hair, pulling his face down to your level. His eyes stare through you, pale grey making your core clench around nothing once more. "Think you’re pretty, too," you murmur into the space between you. He pulls back with a short laugh, stretching his arm to pinch the hem of his shirt between his fingers. Quickly, he pulls the offending material up and over his head, throwing it to the other side of the bed. His eyes scan the bedside table to his right; it gives you a chance to ogle at the bare skin before you, contracting with each inhale and exhale. Reaching down, Eren opens the drawer, rifling through the contents before coming back with a square foil packet between his ring and middle finger. 

Bringing the packet to his mouth, his teeth rip into the side, dragging the excess away. He works the condom out of the packaging, letting the wrapper fall to the floor beside his bed. Rolling the condom over the head of his cock, Eren continues until it’s resting at the base.

"You would be the type of guy to have condoms in your bedside table."

Scoffing, he drags you closer by your ankles, slipping his hold up underneath your knees to slot himself between your legs. "I got them for you."

"Who said you would’ve ever gotten to use them?", you laugh.

Eren grips the base of his cock, sliding it through your folds. "Guess I don’t have to worry about that now, do I?" He looks as good as he always does, sweat beading on his forehead, eyes trained on the place where your bodies meet. Letting your slick coat his cock, he pushes his hips forwards, tip prodding at your entrance with a choked moan. The head of his dick sinks into your heat with ease, your last orgasm making your walls take him in with no problem. 

"Look at you, pretty thing," he growls out, "taking my cock so well." He doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against yours, pelvis brushing against your abused clit. Eren rolls his hips, his dick sliding from back from your hole, before being sucked back into your greedy cunt. Your nails dig into the bed, letting out stammered whines and pitched mewls as he fucks into you. His cock brushes your sweet spot, drawing a near pornographic moan from your mouth. "Such a perfect little cunt, taking me like I was made for you." He taps his finger against your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in fast, circular motions. 

"So...So good, Eren, I..." you cry out, mouth agape, legs beginning to tremble with pleasure. Your cunt leaks steady onto his cock, soaking his length with your juices. Clenching around him, your cheeks warm at the moan that Eren gives. His pace becomes rushed, pounding against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars over and over again. The delicious drag of his cock against your warm walls makes you crazy, body jerking with every sharp thrust into your pulsing cunt. The pitch of your cries is so loud Eren smushes his thumb against your lips. And without thought, you take his thumb into your mouth, velvet tongue encasing the digit.

A growl slips from his mouth, eyes rolling slightly at the sight. Each moan that you release vibrates against his thumb, serving towards his hips snapping against your pelvis harder, the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating throughout the room. "Come," he commands, cock setting a bruising pace against your slit. "Come around my cock, pretty thing."

His words have you keening around his thumb, your body going into overdrive at the sparks of pleasure that shoot through your entire body. Eren continues his short thrusts into your cunt, panting before he goes still, a pleasant, unfamiliar warmth invading your walls. He goes still over you, releasing one final, drawn out choked groan. After a moment, he removes his thumb from where it's resting against your tongue, his cock slipping out from your wet hole, and collapses beside you with a short exhale. Eren wraps an arm around the front of your waist, laying it there for a second, still, before pulling you into his side. You rest your cheek against his chest, body still buzzing. 

Once your breathing returns to normal, feeling returning in your legs, you wet your lips with a laugh. "We never finished reading the rest of the material, you know."

Eren’s chest shakes underneath your head, cheek vibrating with the deep rumble. "Fuck Mesopotamia, Teach." He walks his fingers down your arm, all the day down until he’s lacing his fingers with yours. "But we could always do some more studying."

You hum, even though your eyes are practically already closed, body feeling heavy and warm. You’re leaning into him more, nearly half asleep when another rumble pulsates against your cheek.

"Sure I’d remember anything if your study methods are jumping me." 

* * *

You’re walking back home from your final class days later when your phone buzzes in your hand. Unlocking it, your eyes zero in on the notification on the screen. It’s from Eren, and your lips tilt up gently into a smile. 

He passed his final with an eighty-nine.


End file.
